Devoted (Book Two, Caylin's Story)

by S. J. West

  “My mom?”

  “She was home getting Malcolm’s food when I phased over there. I wanted to make sure it was all right for me to bring you back here. I didn’t think you would want to stay in the clothes you’re in.”

  No, I most certainly did not. After all the smoke from Leah’s fire then the subsequent water from the sprinkler system cementing the smell in, my clothes definitely needed to be changed.

  “I left a towel by the bathtub for you,” Aiden says. “Come downstairs when you’re ready. But, there’s no rush. We’re still making your supper.”

  “We?” I ask.

  “Me and some of the guys,” Aiden says. “Andre is the best cook out of the seven of us so he and Brutus were put in charge of preparing the meal.”

  “And the others?”

  “Jered and Slade are back outside in their spots to watch over the house while you’re here. And Desmond and Daniel have a special surprise for you.”

  “A good surprise I hope?”

  “Well,” Aiden says with a smile, “I guess you’ll have to be the judge of that, beautiful. So, take your time. You’ve had a bad day. We just want to make sure it ends on a good note.”

  “Will you stay with me while I bathe?” I ask.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Aiden says. “You’re enough of a temptation fully clothed much less completely naked, Caylin.”

  “You could keep your eyes closed,” I suggest.

  Aiden chuckles.

  “Angel,” he reminds me. “Not saint. I don’t think I would be able to keep myself from sneaking a peek. So, thank you for your offer, but I will have to respectfully decline for the time being. But one day in the near future, you may not be able to keep me out of any tub you’re frolicking naked in.”

  This time it’s my turn to blush.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait for that day to come,” I say.

  Aiden leans down and gives me a quick kiss.

  “Come down stairs when you’re ready,” he says as he pulls away. “We’ll be waiting.”

  Aiden leaves through the door that connects to the bedroom. I wait until I hear him exit through the bedroom door before I begin to strip off the rest of my clothes.

  I don’t linger in the tub. I don’t really want to be alone. I stay just long enough to wash my body and hair. When I get out of the bath, I wrap the fluffy white towel Aiden left for me to dry off with around my body and go about the room to blow out all the candles. All I need is another fire being set that day.

  I find my clothes laid out for me on the bed in the next room and smile when I see the underwear set separately away from the clothes. It makes me wonder how Aiden felt handling my intimate apparel. Did it make him uncomfortable? Did it turn him on?

  I’m hoping for the latter.

  I dress quickly in the jeans and white peasant style blouse my mom sent. I slip on the flip-flops sitting by the bed and make my way downstairs. Aiden’s laughter fills the house as I walk towards the back where the kitchen is, and I can’t help but smile at the sound of it.

  I hear a lot of rattling of cookware when I enter the kitchen and have to stifle a laugh of my own when I see Andre and Brutus. They’re both wearing white aprons and tall white chef hats on their heads. Why? I have no idea. I don’t see how the hats could possibly help them cook better. But, maybe they’re wearing them to make me laugh.

  Brutus is sautéing something that kicks up a flame on the gas stove while Andre is checking on something cooking in the oven.

  Aiden is lighting two candles on the rectangular glass dining table in the room. The table is arranged with two place settings of china and crystal goblets with a small red rose bouquet between them. When he sees me enter the room, he lays the lighter in his hand on the table and comes to me.

  “Do you feel better?” He asks, taking me into his arms and making me feel more relaxed than any bath could.

  “I do now,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him and resting one of my cheeks against his chest.

  He kisses the top of my head and just holds me for a little while, letting me decompress from the day’s events.

  I hear music come from somewhere behind me and know it’s live, not recorded. I pull away from Aiden to look over my shoulder and see Desmond playing a violin and Daniel strumming the strings of an acoustic guitar. It’s then I realize this must be the ‘special surprise’ from them that Aiden mentioned.

  I don’t recognize the song they’re playing, but I don’t need to. It’s a beautiful tune played with skilled hands and filled with emotion. The song is a haunting melody, but it helps unravel the knots my nerves have been twisted in since the start of the princes’ attack.

  When their song ends, I go up to them both and give them hugs.

  “Thank you,” I tell them. “It was beautiful.”

  “We were hoping it might help a little,” Desmond tells me, an almost shy look on his face from my praise. “Considering the day you had we all thought you might like a stress free night.”

  “It’s exactly what I need,” I tell them.

  “And we hope you’re hungry,” Brutus bellows from the kitchen.

  It’s only with the mention of food that I realize I’m starving.

  “I’m very hungry,” I tell him.

  And that’s really all I had to say to be treated like I was royalty by the Watchers around me. Aiden walks me to the table and holds out my chair for me. Brutus and Andre bring over our plates filled with roasted to perfection Cornish hens and stir fried vegetables. A platter of sliced French bread is placed in front of us with an olive oil and basil-parmesan dipping sauce.

  After the four Watchers fix their own plates, they begin to leave the room, presumably to give Aiden and me time alone.

  “Wait!” I call out.

  They all turn to look at me.

  “Aren’t you going to join us?” I ask them.

  “We thought you might want to be alone together,” Desmond says, looking a little confused by my question.

  “I would really like it if you joined us,” I tell them and look over at Aiden. “If that’s ok with you?”

  “Of course it is,” Aiden says.

  He waves the others back to the table and we’re soon a group of six instead of two.

  No one talks about anything serious because that’s not what I need. They talk about their lives in their respective parts of the world, and what they’ve been doing since the Tear closed.

  I learn Desmond is getting ready to step down as the head of the UK headquarters to concentrate on a book of poems he’s been writing.

  “Haven’t you been writing that book for the past century?” Aiden teases.

  “Only fifty years,” Desmond says like the time is just a drop in the bucket. “That’s hardly a century. Plus, I think I’ve finally found my muse.”

  Desmond looks at me and smiles rather roguishly.

  “Me?” I ask, not seeing how I could possibly inspire one poem much less a book of them.

  Desmond shrugs. “More the situation we find ourselves in because of the love you and Aiden share. Very few people get to find their soul mate. Most go through life knowing that one special person is out there somewhere but never get to meet them. They live their lives with substitutes thinking that’s all love has to offer. But to find your true mate is rare. I guess you could say it’s that ideal love, more than anything, that’s inspired me.”

  “When did you become so …soft?” Brutus asks.

  “I’m not soft,” Desmond responds sounding slightly offended. “I’ve just grown to accept my sensitive side.”

  “Well, Mister Sensitive Side,” Daniel says, picking up his guitar, “feel like playing another song for your fair muse over there?”

  Desmond stands from his seat at the table and walks over to the kitchen counter to retrieve his violin.

  When he comes back to sit down, Daniel starts to pluck the strings of his guitar, and Desmond falls into the tu
ne like they’ve done this many times before. Andre begins to sing the words to the song in Italian. I reach under the table until I find Aiden’s hand, and we hold onto each other while his friends serenade us. The boys play and sing a few more songs with Brutus joining in at one point.

  I begin to feel so relaxed my eyelids start to droop at one point.

  Aiden must notice because he leans over and asks, “Do you want to go home to rest?”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to go yet, especially not without a proper goodnight from you.”

  Aiden grins and stands from his chair.

  The men at the table don’t act like they see us slip out of the room together. I’m sure they notice, but they don’t stop what they’re doing just because we leave.

  Aiden takes me upstairs to the sitting room there. After he opens the doors facing the back where the waterfall is, he takes me into his arms and looks down at me.

  “How are you feeling now?” He asks, concern in his voice over my welfare.

  “A lot better,” I tell him, even though everything that happened that day is still vividly replaying in my mind. “Kiss me. Erase the things I’ve seen today.”

  “I don’t think I can erase those images permanently,” he says with regret. “But maybe I can dim them a little bit and give you something better to think about.”

  Aiden pulls me into him and gently presses his lips to mine. The kiss is tender and sweet. It’s a kiss only a man who truly loves and cherishes you can give. It demands nothing and gives everything.

  I slip my hands underneath Aiden’s shirt to rest them against his sides.

  His muscles tense slightly beneath my touch, but I don’t take any offense to the reaction. I slide my hands around to the middle of his back and feel Aiden moan against my mouth. Before he can protest, I dip my hands down to grab the bottom of his shirt and break our kiss to move away a little bit so I can lift his shirt up across his abdomen and chest, finally pulling it over his head forcing him to raise his arms to allow me to undress him.

  I let his shirt fall to the floor and just look at him for a moment.

  “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” I ask, lifting a hand and gently running it over the hard muscles of his chest and down the ribbed planes of his stomach.

  “You’re absolute perfection,” I tell him.

  “Physically, maybe,” he concedes. “But I’m far from perfect in other ways, Caylin.”

  “Ok, then,” I tell him. “You’re perfect for me.”

  I meet his eyes.

  “And that’s all that matters, Aiden.”

  Aiden comes at me.

  Before I know it, we’re kissing again and he has me lifted up against him with his hands underneath my thighs and my legs wrapped around his hips. I soon find myself falling back on something soft and know Aiden has phased us to the bed in the bedroom on this floor.

  He cradles the back of my head with one hand while his other glides over my right breast, down over my stomach only stopping when he reaches the hem of my shirt. He slides his hand underneath it and rests his hand against my waist squeezing lightly.

  When he breaks our kiss, I almost ask why until he rubs his face down the length of my torso, and I feel the hand he has inside my shirt lift it partially off my stomach giving Aiden’s lips free access to the tender, sensitive flesh being exposed just above the top of my jeans. The first touch of his mouth there makes me gasp, but he doesn’t stop. He kisses the area around my belly button, leaving a wet trail as evidence of his claim to my body on my skin.

  I feel a rising need to feel more of him, which he must sense. He lifts his head back up to mine and continues to kiss me while his hand pulls my shirt back down to where it belongs.

  I groan in complete frustration.

  I feel Aiden smile against my lips as if he’s pleased by my reaction.

  And, I remember our bargain. No sex until marriage. Apparently, I’m in for a year of frustrating make out sessions that both excites me and makes me wonder how long I’ll be able to keep my sanity if Aiden continues to tease my body like this.

  After a long while of kissing and touching, I finally pull away and say, “Mercy.”

  Aiden peers down at me and can’t seem to stop a smile of triumph from spreading his lips.

  “See, told you I could make you say it.”

  “Was that your master plan for this evening?” I ask. “Torture me with your lips and hands until you made me say that word.”

  “Pleasant torture, I hope.”

  “Too pleasant,” I say, pulling his head back down to mine. “But don’t stop just yet. I think I can suffer through a little more.”

  Aiden chuckles softly but fulfills my request…for a little while longer…

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Aiden escorts me home and we find my dad sleeping on the couch in the living room with Mae. Tristan, now in his wolf form, is lying on the floor in front of them curled up and sleeping peacefully. He doesn’t even stir when we phase in.

  Still holding Aiden’s hand, I phase us to my bedroom.

  “Was there something else you wanted before I left, beautiful?” Aiden asks in a knowing, pleased voice.

  I wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Why yes, Aiden, there was one more thing I wanted from you before you left me,” I tell him, raising up on my toes to tease his lips with mine in one last, lingering kiss.

  When I finally decide to end the kiss, I tighten my arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Caylin.”

  “Would you do me a favor?” I ask as I pull away from him.

  He looks at me with such tenderness I know I could ask him for the world, and he would get it for me.

  “Anything you want,” he tells me.

  “Would you go watch over my mom? I have a feeling she won’t leave Uncle Malcolm’s side tonight. I don’t want her to run herself ragged and not get any sleep at all.”

  “I’ll go over there now,” Aiden promises. “And you should know there are five Watchers outside watching over your house. If there’s any trouble at all, they’ll notify us immediately.”

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  Aiden leans down and kisses me one more time.

  “I’ll be back in the morning. You try to get some sleep.”

  I nod. “Ok. I’ll try.”

  Aiden kisses my forehead and then phases.

  I get ready for bed quickly and then bury myself underneath the safety of my covers.

  My body feels tired, but my mind just won’t shut off. I keep thinking about everything, the good and the bad, that happened that day. I consider taking a sleeping pill but squash that thought out as quickly as it emerges. If something unexpected happens, I need to have full control of all my faculties to deal with it.

  After a lot of tossing and turning, I look at the clock on my nightstand and see that it’s three o’clock in the morning. Seeing that I’m not going to get any sleep, I decide to get up and go to my studio to see if I can get my mind off things with a new project. It should be safe enough. Aiden said there were five Watchers outside my home making sure we weren’t attacked.

  I slip on my pink fuzzy house shoes and phase down to my studio. When I flip the light switch on, I freeze. I stand completely still for a good minute as my mind tries to comprehend what it’s seeing.

  Every drawing…every painting in the room has either been smeared with red paint or ripped to shreds or both. The ceiling, the floor and every wall has been splashed in a mad, random pattern with blood red paint giving the room the appearance of a slaughterhouse. The family portrait I made for my mother’s birthday present has been strategically placed on top of my worktable as if it in particular was left on display just for me to see.

  It’s completely shredded and all of our faces have been marked out with red X’s.

  I feel my body begin to shake uncontrollably. I feel violated. I feel like someone has just
ripped out my soul and trampled all over it, only to leave it out in a cold rain shower to rot.

  I immediately slam the door of the boathouse open to let some fresh air in because I’m finding it almost impossible to breathe.

  “Caylin.”

  I look up and see Jered standing in front of me.

  “What’s wrong?” He asks in alarm.

  I move away from the doorway to stand out on the dock. Jered walks into what was once my studio, my sanctuary away from the madness of the world.

  When he walks in, he surveys the damage, taking in the savagery of what’s been done.

  “When was the last time you were in here?” Jered finally asks me.

  I stand there silently for a minute, having to think back.

  “Right before I chose you and the others,” I say, just then realizing how long it’s been since I was last in my studio.

  “So this could have happened anytime within the past few days?” Jered asks.

  I nod. “Yes. It wasn’t recent because the paint is dry.”

  Jered sighs heavily, and he walks out of the room to stand beside me.

  “Why don’t you go back inside?” Jered suggest. “We’ll clean this up for you.”

  “Why would they bother to do such a petty thing?” I ask.

  “To throw you off your game,” Jered replies. “They want to put as much turmoil as they can in your life and destroy the things you count on the most. If they do that, it might make you less focused on them.”

  I shake my head. “Then they don’t know me very well. If anything, this makes me more determined to defeat them.”

  “Good,” Jered says. “Stay that way. Use this to make you even more resolute in your mission against them. We only have four more princes to take down. It won’t be long before this is all over and you can go on with your life.”

  I look back at my studio.

  “I’ll go get some cleaning supplies,” I tell Jered.

  “Caylin, we can clean it up,” Jered says to me again. “Let us do that for you.”

  I shake my head. “No, I want to help. It’s mine.”

  “What’s wrong?” A familiar voice says.